I spent the last two weekends in London for various reasons, but the main reason for the trip last weekend was to see the lovely Gaba Kulka play her first London gig. The Tuesday afterwards, we got coffee and some food and chatted before walking down towards the tube to go our separate ways. I was heading off to meet @Somhairle before catching my flight back to Ireland.

Suddenly we realised that there was a gathering of photographers snapping away in front of us, which was a bit bewildering to be honest, and looking around, I spotted David Cameron walking along behind us. Snapping him walking into his first day as Prime Minister.

I even remember saying that the photographers probably zoomed right past us to get the shot of David Cameron, but apparently they didn’t and we’re splashed over the front page of The Times, as well as making the Daily Mail.

Very random.

Gaba’s gig was absolutely wonderful though. If you’ve not checked out her music before, do! I’ve posted about her in a small way on this blog already, where you can check out three different songs from her.

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Greta the grinder moaned and groaned
For she was far too fond of complaining.
Some days she just stopped,
As some form of silent protesting.

The end.
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Part 5 of an irregular series.

There once was a chameleon called Lorcan,
Who could change his skin to blend in,
But soon Lorcan realised,
That it’s far more fun to stand out in a crowd.

So Lorcan the chameleon began to change his skin,
No longer to try and merely fit in,
But to stand out in a crowd,
Feeling quite proud
With colours as eye-catching as could be.

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Part 4 of an irregular series.

This little terrible poem was inspired by boredom in Javas, and the fact that I twist sugar sachets and put them inside each other, because I’m a neat-freak sometimes.

But when I added the chocolate wrapper, it looked like a worm with a fabulous blue rinse, or perhaps a purple mohawk.

I named her Wilma, and gave her eyes. Declan thought her eyebrows were really quite fetching. So I wrote this beautiful piece of art for him.

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Wilma The Worm

Wilma the worm and her questioning eyebrows,
Went into town to buy herself some glasses,
But a problem arose while trying on frames,
As she has no ears.

So Wilma the worm and her questioning eyebrows
Had to make do with perusing hot asses,
Without the aid of a new pair of glasses,
Because she has no ears.
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So, Pa asked me to sing him a song or write a story tonight, so I wrote him this in about 5 seconds in reply to his message. Apparently, Amanda is correct, and all my stories have giraffes in them.

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Once upon a time there was a giraffe,
who wanted to be a drag queen really badly.
So he went and found some fake boobs,
and learned how to stand upright.
Then got Pa to make him a dress

But there was a problem!
Giraffes have really fucking long necks
and they don’t fit inside any gay bar.
So the giraffe had to be content
with performing in Dublin Zoo.

The End.

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